


It Was Only a Kiss

by FallenAngelWorks



Series: Mr. Brightside [4]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Anal fignering, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, I'm planning like, I'm thinkign its goign to end alright after this one, Izaya is totally a shit, Izaya thinks so at least, M/M, Part 4, Shizuo is kind of a shit, Shizuo wears contacts, Sort of anonymous sex?, TWO IN ONE DAY, and that temp hair dye, another four parts at least, bad disguises, damn im good, for titles, give it up fro Atsu and Yuki, let me know if I missed something, no beta we die like men, shit sucks but we'll pretend it works really well for this, someone copyright that for me, there are just too mnay good lyrics, they deserve each other, titties for titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenAngelWorks/pseuds/FallenAngelWorks
Summary: Alright—so maybe it was more like bathroom stall sex, a decent orgasm in the middle of the dance floor, and a blowjob in a shadowed corner. Shizuo felt a little guilty, but when it led to something like this, it was hard to say no.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Series: Mr. Brightside [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569430
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	It Was Only a Kiss

_Shizuo couldn’t help the shame that burned him._ It had been an awful decision, but the moment he had felt that spark in his spine and he caught sight of him across the street, Shizuo just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t been completely sure that it _was_ Izaya at first, the hair was too long, and it had been pulled back, tied in a ponytail with a few strands falling across his forehead, too short to catch in the elastic. He was dressed more like Shizuo imagined a conservative male _stripper_ might, but the voice— _that voice that haunted Shizuo still—_ was unmistakable. _Izaya looked good._ Shizuo tried, he really had tried to resist, but he had ducked inside after him and hidden himself in a darker corner after getting himself a drink. Izaya had been escorted inside by an older man, and after staring for a while, Shizuo recognized him as Shiki, one of Izaya’s first—and most powerful—clients.

Shizuo had seethed silently as he watched the two of them sit close, and chat, Izaya’s smile for him at first shocked, and then smooth and sly. _He didn’t like it._ He knew he didn’t have a right, not after he had let Izaya walk out that door. _He knew how Izaya felt for that first year that they had broken up._ Shizuo had spent just about six months believing he was going to come home to find Izaya had broken in again, and this time Shizuo _would_ ask him to stay. He hadn’t turned up, and after another month, Shizuo couldn’t stare at the velvet box on his nightstand anymore without doing something with it. _He had started wearing his ring._ He had considered putting it on his left hand, he really had no desire to be with anyone but Izaya, instead he put it on his right, thought it less conspicuous that way too.

Now it felt like a lead weight on his hand as he watched several other men gather around the table, crowding close to Izaya in turn until he excused himself. Shizuo wondered if maybe Izaya had given up the broker life to work as something more— _provocative—_ and then quickly changed his mind. Izaya had never cared for being touched unless he wanted to be, he wouldn’t ever sell himself— _not that he hadn’t before._ Shizuo’s eyes flickered to the ring, the gift that had started this whole mess, and then back out towards the floor to seek out the brunet in the flashing lights. He caught sight of him standing at the bar, another brunet—his hair several shades lighter, almost the same as Shizuo’s natural hair—standing close and gripping Izaya’s hip. Shizuo watched the interaction, and then as they moved into the throng of people on the dancefloor.

Shizuo could really only watch for so long before he had to do something _._ The brunet was being _handsy,_ and while Shizuo wasn’t keen on being discovered here, didn’t want to interrupt Izaya if he knew the person, the moment he saw Izaya shift— _he twitched away from him—_ Shizuo knew he had to intervene. He set his glass down on the nearest surface and moved in fast, knowing he had to stop it before Izaya got himself into a situation he didn’t want to be in, and couldn’t get out off. _How many drinks had Shizuo watched him swallow?_ He pulled the man off Izaya, and before he could voice a protest Shizuo sent him his best glare, watched the kid— _what was he, nineteen?—_ look like he might still protest.

 _“Back off kid.”_ His eyes flashed, and then he disappeared, swallowed by the crowd. Shizuo would have left it at that, but the moment he turned to see Izaya still rolling his hips to the music—almost undisturbed by the interruption— _Shizuo just couldn’t fucking help himself._ He slipped up behind Izaya. His mouth touched down on the pale skin of his shoulder where his shirt had slipped down, his hands wound around Izaya’s body until he could wrap his fingers around Izaya’s ribs, around his throat—grip tight, needing Izaya to feel the weight of them, the weight of Shizuo’s body as he pressed against him, catching the rhythm of the music and working to roll both his and Izaya’s hips in counter-point. _He felt awfully thin under Shizuo’s hands._ Izaya pressed backwards into Shizuo’s grip more firmly, and a small part of Shizuo said that this was _wrong._ Izaya obviously still thought that he was dancing with the _trash,_ but Shizuo couldn’t stop himself, _he needed._ Izaya was right here, and he hadn’t turned to see him yet— _this would work if he could keep Izaya from turning around._ Shizuo knew that if anyone caught sight of them and decided to observe, it would look more like Shizuo was fucking Izaya than dancing with him, but the press of their bodies— _they had always fit like jigsaw pieces—_ and it was so bittersweet when Izaya’s shirt rode up as Shizuo pressed against him further. Shizuo let the hand bracing Izaya’s throat relinquish its grip, sliding down to pull at a nipple, teasing it to hardness as he let his breath rush over the sweat glistening along Izaya’s neck. Shizuo pressed his mouth against Izaya’s pulse, felt his heart beat against his tongue as he sucked a mark there and Izaya loop his arms behind himself to catch around Shizuo’s neck. Shizuo imagined the _exact_ sound Izaya would make before it hit his ears— _louder than the music in the club._ Shizuo couldn’t—tried to reason that Izaya was _his,_ had _always_ been his even when they were apart, this was just a— _what was Shizuo thinking?_

He managed to get Izaya into the bathroom after dragging him away from the floor, and he obviously hadn’t caught that Shizuo’s hair was most definitely _not_ the right shade for the person he had been dancing with. _Shizuo also happened to be a fair bit taller._ Shizuo dropped his mouth to Izaya’s hoping he would close his eyes so Shizuo could back them into a stall. He needed to get Izaya to turn his back again, and a stall would offer a modicum of privacy if someone decided to slip in to take a leak. The moment his calves touched grazed the toilet he tugged Izaya closer, slammed the door shut and spun Izaya around to press him against the cool metal and flip the lock into place. Izaya wasn’t making it difficult, he was keening from the rough treatment, and he was arching his back now, pressing the curve of his ass out, _presenting._ Izaya didn’t try to turn, and his eyes were closed when Shizuo risked a glance. He moved to strip Izaya’s jeans from him, along with his briefs, pulling them down to his ankles, and Shizuo pushed his shirt up too, wanting to see as much skin as possible. He tucked the fabric under Izaya’s arms and took a minimal step back to gaze a moment, appreciate what was there, and then Izaya was spreading his legs as much as he could, bending himself a little further until Shizuo could catch a flash of that tight, pink pucker hidden there. He couldn’t stop the groan, sincerely hoped it had been long enough that Izaya wouldn’t recognize him for it—and stepped closer to press against him, to nip at his jaw until his skin was flushed pink as Shizuo pressed a few fingers into the grip of Izaya’s mouth.

Izaya was suckling on his fingers like his life depended on it, and he was rubbing up against Shizuo’s cock, pressing against him hard and offering _mind blowing_ friction. Shizuo would admit that he had his fair number of fucks in a club bathroom, but nothing—absolutely _nothing—_ would ever compare to sex in a bathroom stall with Izaya. _Even if he didn’t know it was Shizuo touching._ Izaya reached a hand backwards to grip at Shizuo’s hip to tug him closer, a clear sign of _more_ that Shizuo would have been able to recognize in the dark, and he pulled his fingers from Izaya’s mouth, dropping his hand and allowing for enough space to let his fingers tease at Izaya’s rim. Shizuo would have preferred to take his time to stretch Izaya properly, make sure it wouldn’t hurt, but the longer he touched Izaya, the more dangerous this was. He was drunk, Shizuo could tell, but there was no way Izaya wouldn’t figure out it was _him._ Shizuo had memorized Izaya’s body, knew it intimately, where to touch, when, how hard, how long—Shizuo knew it all. _Izaya knew him too._

Shizuo stretched him efficiently, and clumsily enough that it would be hard for him to tell if Shizuo was just _good,_ or if was really _him_ touching Izaya. Shizuo dropped his mouth to kiss at Izaya’s neck, licking at the sweat and reveling in the salt on his tongue until he could reach Izaya’s ear. He nipped hard at the shell, and a whine— _high and pure—_ was Shizuo’s reward for the sting. Shizuo wanted to hear more, wanted to swallow Izaya’s cries like he always had and feel them ripple through his chest until the hurt disappeared. He brought his unoccupied hand up to wrap his fist around Izaya’s hair and yank his head backwards to expose his throat. Izaya hissed at the roughness, and then he was sighing and pressing back against Shizuo’s fingers as he sucked a darker mark under the hinge of Izaya’s jaw. Then he was _speaking_ and Shizuo was losing his head completely.

 _“Oh fuck~_ I-if I had _known_ Americans were so talented—I-I would have left Japan _years_ a- _ah!”_ Shizuo bit down around Izaya’s adams apple and listened to the gasp that interrupted the words pouring from his lips. _American?_ So, the brunet from before had been American—Shizuo could swing that, his English was good— _perfect, his mother had made sure—_ and he could let an accent slip into his Japanese. It would be easy enough to fool his ears that way, but Shizuo’s voice, Izaya knew it too well. Shizuo concentrated on trying to mask himself as he released Izaya’s hair and pressed him back up against the door. _He wouldn’t need to talk, he’d let Izaya feel._ He reached down to undo his belt and Izaya let out a wanton moan, one Shizuo had heard only a handful of times before and he shivered. _Izaya wanted deeply._ Shizuo had gotten his cock out only for Izaya to demand a condom—and Shizuo had to remind himself that Izaya thought he was about to fuck some random, not Shizuo. Shizuo let go of Izaya and reached for his wallet, hoping he might still have a few in there.

Victorious, Shizuo pulled a single purple foil square out of the leather, and flashed his hand to Izaya so he could see it. He nodded his consent, and Shizuo ripped the foil open with his teeth, reaching to roll the latex down his shaft and had to muffle his groan at the sensation. _He and Izaya hadn’t ever used them before._ Izaya had been Shizuo’s _first,_ and even though Izaya had condoms the first time they— _he had demanded Shizuo not use one._ They hadn’t ever after that, never worried about _needing_ them when they had been devoted to each other. Shizuo wondered if this might work to his advantage, condoms did feel different, not so much that it would be _impossible_ to tell, but Izaya was inebriated enough that it should make it _harder_ to tell. Shizuo steadied himself and pressed against Izaya’s rim, adding more pressure until Izaya was pushing back against him and he slipped inside almost _too_ easily. Izaya’s body gripped him just right, and Shizuo bit down on Izaya’s shoulder to muffle his groan— _Izaya would recognize that one for sure if he didn’t._ The connection was numbing, no one had ever felt as good as Izaya—maybe it was because Shizuo loved him. Shizuo grasped Izaya’s hip to steady him, and reached around further to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking slowly. Izaya choked a whimper, Shizuo could her him swallow the majority of the sound, and then he was speaking again, making Shizuo’s job of being anonymous harder.

“Y-you n— _ah fuck—_ never told me your name. How’m I su— _ah~ t-there—_ supposed to know what to scream? It’s probab— _oh my God, f-fuck me harder—”_ Shizuo had pulled out enough to cause friction for them both, and then snapped his hips forward, stealing Izaya’s words in favor of a plea as he his Izaya’s prostate with more accuracy than he should have. Shizuo couldn’t help the huff of amusement, Izaya had always been so fucking _pushy. Shizuo had never really complained though._ He could read Izaya’s body easily— _a sharp twitch of his hips demanded punishment, a stuttered breath needed him to slow down, a whine low in his throat begged a kiss, Shizuo knew every tell—_ but he had always liked it more when Izaya was verbal about what he wanted. Shizuo yielded to the demand as he always had, pressing deeper, harder, letting Izaya feel the punishment of a good thrust, as he attempted to deepen his voice and let the western accent leak into his words as he let a breath brush along Izaya’s throat.

 _“Call me whatever you want—I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”_ Shizuo thought it might better if he didn’t try and come up with a name, he was never very imaginative, and letting Izaya pick seemed to be the right choice. Izaya keened and pressed back harder against Shizuo’s next thrust, the tilt of his hips told Shizuo he hadn’t gone deep enough for him. Shizuo adjusted his grip, tightened the fist around Izaya’s cock a little more, and pressed closer to dip deeper. Izaya was panting hard, his voice leaking into the shallow breaths and it sounded like the music Shizuo used to write— _music he had never shared with Izaya_ —and Shizuo twisted his wrist under the head of Izaya’s cock, a touch he had _always_ liked, one that had always rewarded Shizuo with a magnificent sound. After another moment, Izaya uttered a name and Shizuo had to focus on it to stop himself from speaking again.

 _“Atsu—I-I’ll call you Atsu.”_ Shizuo hummed against Izaya’s jaw as he processed, and felt a stab of guilt. _Seems like Izaya was seeing someone—and cheating once again._ Shizuo wouldn’t let it get to him, though he knew now that this was _entirely_ wrong of him. Maybe Izaya had been looking to tease his companion, there had been a lot of men at the table with him and Shiki, and all of them had leered at him. Shizuo erased his thoughts and let himself get caught in the moment instead of dwelling on who Atsu was, and where he might be. He pressed his tongue to Izaya’s collar and licked a slow line up his throat, catching more sweat, more salt, just before he let the hand stroking Izaya recede, feeling in his _bones_ that Izaya needed something more as he whined at the loss of friction. He pulled away enough to give his hand room to wrap around Izaya’s throat again, squeezing just enough in the right spots to let Izaya feel the pressure. He knew his ring probably wasn’t in the most comfortable position for Izaya, the metal pressing into his adams apple, but he wasn’t protesting it. Shizuo couldn’t help it then, because Izaya was pressing into the touch, pressing back harder against Shizuo’s thrusts into his body. He tried to recall the register he had used when he had spoken before and focused on that as he asked his question.

 _“Atsu—that your boyfriend?”_ Shizuo let a hard press punctuate his question and Izaya let out a pathetic sound that went _straight_ to Shizuo’s cock. Izaya pressed more insistently against his hand, against the pressure there and Izaya risked leaning a little further forward to gauge Izaya, before relaxing his hand. He kept it there, knowing the weight would be comfortable for him as he took a few deep breaths. Shizuo slowed the roll of his hips to allow him to breathe as he answered his question.

 _“N-no—_ he— _oh f-f-f-f- **fuck** —_he was _special_ — _really special_. _Y_ - _you t-touch me just like him, just enough rough.”_ Shizuo picked up the pace as Izaya’s words came out shaky, wanting to see him a little more incoherent. _Atsu._ So, he had been a decent fuck then. Shizuo could recall a few he would deem special enough to remember, none good enough besides _Izaya_ to imagine during an anonymous screw though. Shizuo needed to occupy his mouth before he said something stupid, and so nipped at Izaya’s chin, then turned his head enough to catch his mouth. Shizuo was allowed entrance immediately, and he delved deeply, wanting to touch at the spots he hadn’t in so long. He flicked his tongue against Izaya’s palate _just_ the way he liked and Shizuo tasted the whimper that left Izaya before he was pulling back out of view and squeezing at Izaya’s throat to begin cutting off his oxygen again. He wanted to make Izaya forget about _Atsu._ Shizuo picked a faster rhythm, hitting deeper, _harder,_ wanting to press at Izaya’s prostate more directly. He wanted to feel Izaya come apart. Shizuo couldn’t help his mouth. Izaya was imagining _someone_ here with him in the stall, and he had promised to be whoever Izaya wanted him to be. _Atsu must have called him something._

_“So, this—ah—Atsu was special—shit—he have a name for you?”_

_“Y-Yuki—he-he called me Yuki.”_ Shizuo couldn’t stop the way his hand flexed and tightened around Izaya’s throat at the utterance. Shizuo’s hips stuttered a moment before snapping harder than before. Izaya’s entire body tensed for a few moments, and Shizuo could feel himself peaking— _he was going to hit the wall._ It only took him a few moments to realize what was happening right now. _Atsu—Atsushi—Yuki—Yukihiko._ Izaya was imagining it was _Shizuo_ fucking him right. Shizuo realized that he hadn’t had to fight with Izaya to stop him from trying to look at him, and he understood why now. Izaya didn’t want to turn and see some brunet that could scratch the itch—he wanted to believe it was Shizuo bringing him pleasure— _the way he had so long ago._ Shizuo did lose his mind in that bathroom stall as he reached orgasm and growled that endearment— _Yuki—_ into Izaya’s ear as his hips stilled. He let his hand relax slowly, not wanting Izaya to try and gulp at the air as he gave him back the ability to breath. _Atsu_ left his mouth brokenly, and his body tensed around Shizuo as Izaya spilled himself against the stall door.

Shizuo couldn’t stop himself from stroking at Izaya, knowing that a lack of contact would be harder than a little gentle petting. Izaya was breathing heavy, and Shizuo could feel his own chest heaving a few moments longer, and then he knew he couldn’t stay like this, lest Izaya get curious now that it was over. Shizuo stepped backwards, slipping from Izaya’s body so he could pull the condom off and tuck himself away. It wasn’t the best option, but Shizuo dropped it in the toilet, flushed it, and turned to find Izaya had righted his clothes. Shizuo stepped up close behind him, plastering himself to Izaya’s back and making sure he wouldn’t be able to turn enough to see him. Shizuo reached to unlock the door and then he walked Izaya out of the bathroom slowly and back into the darkness of the club. Izaya’s voice hit his ears— _What are you doing?—_ and Shizuo had to take a shallow breath to collect his thoughts. He needed a way out now, a way that Izaya wouldn’t see him. If he even _spotted_ Shizuo in the club, it wouldn’t ever be a sneaking suspicion—Izaya would know it had been Shizuo in that stall with him.

 _“Was I who you wanted me to be?”_ It was the only thing he could think to say, and he wanted to make sure Izaya heard it. He pressed his lips tight to Izaya’s ear, to let him feel them too, and Shizuo caught the way Izaya’s eyes fluttered closed as his voice washed over him. Izaya nodded against him, and Shizuo couldn’t help the bittersweet curl of his lips.

 _“Then just let it be Yuki. Keep your eyes closed, count to ten, and when you open them, I’ll be gone.”_ Shizuo knew it would be a feat to stop Izaya from protesting, he was stubborn, but Shizuo brought his hand up to cover his eyes so he could press his mouth to Izaya’s sweetly. Izaya hummed against him, and Shizuo took that as consent, let himself linger a moment longer there, and then stepped away, moving quickly to reach the doors.

Once out on the street Shizuo wasn’t sure what he was going to do, he just knew he had to leave, and do his best to make sure he was sighted here, because Izaya would undoubtedly hear about. _He would know._ Shizuo did his best to push the experience out of his head, needed to walk away, and so he picked a direction and walked. _Well, it was more of a jog._ When he felt he was far enough away he stepped into an alley to try and collect his thoughts. Sure, Izaya had consented, _but Shizuo wasn’t who he thought he was._ Shizuo took a few minutes to feel the shame, the disappointment in himself for taking advantage of Izaya, and then pulled himself together, righted his clothes and hair until he felt a little less debauched, and made a slow walk home.

It was two days later, his next shift with Tom that Shizuo was told Izaya had been seen in Ikebukuro the day before _The Incident—_ as Shizuo had started referring to it—with a woman. Yagiri Namie. Tom said she had introduced herself as his _partner,_ but Shizuo had never known Izaya to be partial to women. Izaya’s little obsession with humanity though meant that he could be inclined either way. Shizuo was left confused on the issue, and he didn’t dare mention his run in, because there wasn’t really anything to tell. An itch had set in under Shizuo’s skin though, and he needed to soothe it, needed to see Izaya again, but he wouldn’t know where to begin other than that club. If Izaya had been spending _a lot_ of time in Ikebukuro, even just the edges of the city, Shizuo would have felt the disturbance, would have felt Izaya’s energy leak into his and mingle until Shizuo felt bitter and drank his morning coffee without anything in it, just so he could imagine the way Izaya used to taste when he kissed him before he left for work. _He hadn’t, which meant he wasn’t a frequent visitor._

He thought it would be pointless to go back, but a hope and a prayer went a long way, along with a temporary dye job. Shizuo had fussed with his hair after using the washable dye, thinking it left his hair a little _sticky,_ but after a few passes with a hair brush, it was as soft as it always was, and no one would be the wiser. Shizuo had thought briefly about wearing colored contacts, but they were expensive, and he wasn’t entirely sure he would even see Izaya. _He bought them anyway._ A blue pair that was bright enough to hide the dark of his eyes perfectly, hoping he had guessed the jerks eye color when he had pulled him off Izaya and gotten a decent look at him. He found some looser fitting clothes, something dark and comfortable—similar to what the American had worn—to let him blend in until he— _hopefully—_ spotted Izaya in the crowd somewhere. Shizuo bought himself a drink and hesitated at the bar for a little while, feeling just a little ridiculous as he scanned the crowd and caught eyes with _several_ people that were not Izaya but obviously interested. Shizuo paid them all no mind, one had the idea of shifting closer until Shizuo turned away abruptly and stepped away from the bar, wanting to sink into the background to try and spot Izaya undisturbed.

He flitted along the walls for a while, slipping towards the bar to refill his drink a few times, wanting to rid himself of the haze of anxiety, and as he was sneaking back towards a shadowed corner, someone grabbed his wrist and a hand slipped over his eyes. Cool silver on the index finger told Shizuo _exactly_ who was touching him right now.

 _“Atsu?”_ His voice was uncertain in Shizuo’s ear, and it took him a moment to recall the way he had bent his voice to sound different, took a breath and touched at Izaya’s hand over his eyes.

“Yuki—” before Shizuo could say anymore to confirm Izaya’s suspicion of his assumed identity, his drink was pulled from his hand and set down on the nearest table before he was dragged towards the cluster of swaying bodies in the center of the room. Izaya had turned his back to him immediately, dragged his hands closer until Shizuo could grip his hips and step close enough to grind together. _This was heaven._ Shizuo dropped his head immediately to kiss at Izaya’s neck, he was showing a little more skin than last time, but as much as it tweaked his anger, he also burned with pride. Izaya could have anyone in this club, he had chosen _him—well maybe not **him** but **him**. _As Shizuo mouthed at his throat, licking at the bruises he had left behind the last time, and a hand wove through his hair as Izaya’s voice rumbled against his lips.

“I came back hoping you would too— _glad I found you Atsu._ I _can_ still call you that, _right?”_ Shizuo hummed, delighting in the way Izaya shivered in his grasp as the song changed and the rhythm of their hips shifted. Shizuo shifted his hands lower, gripping at the tops of Izaya thighs, fingers curling inwards towards his groin, spread his legs a little wider and worked their hips into a slow roll against the rhythm of the music. The next shudder was more prominent, and a soft moan left Izaya’s mouth just before a giggle. _Shizuo had missed that sound the most. Izaya’s laugh was the brightest music, like Christmas bells._

“Not this time Atsu—let’s just dance— _talk to me.”_ Shizuo felt conflicted about this, and he felt panic rise when Izaya moved to twist around, as if to press them chest to chest. Shizuo tightened his grip on Izaya and pressed more insistently against him, keeping him in place with a carefully executed press of his body. Izaya moaned, and the hand in Shizuo’s hair tightened until he felt a twinge of pain. _Fuck he had missed that._ He didn’t have to think about dropping his voice, he fell into the character easier this time, and though he was almost certain Izaya was _sober,_ the fantasy might just dull his senses.

 _“I can’t be Atsu if you look at me Yuki—_ that’s what you want right, to pretend I’m him? I can let you do that—you can use me if thats what you _need._ Tell me what he’d do, _I’ll give it my best shot.”_ Izaya’s entire body flexed against his, and Shizuo nipped at Izaya’s throat feeling just a _little_ guilty. Izaya reached his empty hand to grab for Shizuo’s, shifting it from his thigh to the steadily growing bulge in the front of his jeans. Shizuo gave him a generous squeeze and listened to the moan that vibrated against his mouth. He really didn’t need to be _this_ careful, he had done enough to disguise himself, and that in the dark club, he _could_ be anyone. Then Izaya was using the leverage he had, the hand in Shizuo’s hair tugged until a soft mouth was pressing hard against his. It was quick, messy, and then hot breath was fanning over his face before his head was dragged back towards Izaya’s neck.

 _“Atsu would try and get me off right here—_ he-he’d want to see me make a mess of myself.” Shizuo hummed deep in his throat, thinking that that was _exactly_ what he wanted right now. Wanted to tease Izaya into orgasm right here, so that if anyone watched for too long they would know the flush in his cheeks was more than the heat of the room. Shizuo nipped at Izaya’s ear and pressed his mouth there, know Izaya would like to feel his words caress him, touch him deeply as Shizuo gave another tight squeeze to Izaya’s cock, a few soft strokes to the outline just to tease him further.

“This Atsu is sounding more and more interesting Yuki— _tell me more.”_ Shizuo cast his eyes around, no one was paying any attention to either of them, all too entranced in their chosen partners for the current song, and Shizuo decided he wanted to be _cheeky._ Izaya normally wouldn’t be into such obvious and _blatant_ exhibitionism, but this was an opportunity _too good_ to pass up. Shizuo pulled the zip of Izaya’s jeans down and thumbed the button out of place as he kissed a wet line across Izaya’s purposefully exposed shoulder. He left the belt as was, knowing it would keep Izaya’s jeans together enough to provide a _little_ discretion as he dipped his hand inside to find Izaya wasn’t wearing any underwear. _Sweet little bastard._ Izaya pressed his hips backwards against the press of Shizuo’s body instead of forward towards his questing fingers, and Shizuo knew what was being asked for. He pressed a soft kiss to Izaya’s shoulder as he shifted the hand gripping Izaya’s hip to his throat, squeezing there gently to ask if that’s what had been wanted. _He knew the answer before Izaya panted out a **yes**. _

“Would Atsu expect you to be bare under your jeans? Would he reward you or _punish_ you?” Shizuo was letting this get a little out of hand as he griped Izaya firmly, felt the silken steel twitch against his palm as he relaxed his other hand to let Izaya respond to his question. _Shizuo knew this answer too though._

 _“Depends on how he felt._ Oh, f-fuck Atsu— _t-tighter.”_ Shizuo nipped at Izaya’s shoulder as he tightened his grip with both hands, carefully cutting off Izaya’s oxygen as their hips rolled with the music, tightening his hand around Izaya’s cock and pulling him off in counterpoint to the bass line, _knowing_ Izaya liked the contradiction, knowing he understood it. _That might just give him away but Shizuo couldn’t stop himself from heightening Izaya’s pleasure just right._ Izaya was writhing in his grip, and Shizuo reached his fingers lower to tease the tips over Izaya’s balls, knowing the tickle would get him where he wanted to be. Izaya’s hips stuttered forward and Shizuo withdrew his hand completely as Izaya rolled his hips through his orgasm. Shizuo was careful as he pulled Izaya’s zipper back up and fixed the button back into place. He traced a hand down the softening bulge and let out a quiet groan when he felt the wet sport forming in the fabric. _It had been a long time since Shizuo had made Izaya cream his pants._ He had also liked licking him clean afterwards, mouthing him into another slow build and swallowing his come _fresh_ in the second round. A tug on his hair had Shizuo pressing his mouth to Izaya’s ear, a hum vibrating there to let Izaya know he was paying attention.

 _“Atsu would lick me clean afterwards.”_ Shizuo formed a protest immediately, because he knew the temptation would be too much for Izaya if he knelt down in front of him, but he couldn’t voice it as Izaya dragged him through the crowd into one of the darker corners, the strobe lights flashed dimly here leaving mostly shadows, and a wall of people to hide them further. Izaya stepped into Shizuo’s chest, pressed his forehead to his collar. Shizuo let his hands drift to Izaya’s hips as he shook gently in his grasp, obviously not through all the aftershocks of orgasm.

 _“I’d have to be in front of you Yuki._ Wouldn’t want to break the illusion of this for you.”

“I’ll keep my eyes closed, _and it’s dark._ Atsu—Atsu would lick me clean, _then blow me like a God._ I want that, can you give that to me? _I want to remember it.”_ Shizuo was weak to the plea and after a moment his ducked his head to whisper that Izaya had to _swear_ to keep his eyes closed. After a gratuitous and eager moan in reply, Shizuo backed Izaya up further until he was pressed into the wall, plunging them further into darkness before Shizuo dropped to his knees. _This would be easy._ His hands worked quickly to open Izaya’s jeans a little more, and he peeled the fabric back before dropping up jaw open to suckle the head. Izaya’s hips twitched immediately, and Shizuo could just catch the sharp moan Izaya offered freely. He laved his tongue across the skin, licking at the evidence of Izaya’s pleasure until the only thing that would remain would be the uncomfortable patch of wet denim, before taking more of the length into his mouth. Shizuo would have to pace himself with this, it would be a practice in patience. He knew that if he swallowed Izaya whole—like he normally would have—he’d just be giving himself away.

Shizuo worked an easy rhythm, Izaya’s hips twitching forwards every time Shizuo let his teeth graze the shaft between his lips. Shizuo kept his eyes focused on the shadow of Izaya’s face, making sure he was keeping his eyes closed as he did this. None of the lights flashing in their direction were catching on anything, and Shizuo decided he was safe for now to put more focus on sucking the orgasm from Izaya. He worked quickly, though a wash of memories hit him hard as he took Izaya into his throat and swallowed around him. The weight of him against his tongue, the bitterness, the musk, the way Izaya _smelled,_ how his fingers were tangling in Shizuo’s hair—all of this was so familiar. _It hurt just about as much as it pleased._ The pleasure was sharp when Izaya’s hips jerked a few times and his sack drew up tight to his body as his orgasm pulsed down Shizuo’s eager throat. He wanted to please, _wanted to provide,_ though he knew that if he worked Izaya too carefully he’d ruin it all because Izaya would open his eyes and _still_ be able to tell it was Shizuo on his knees if he stared too long. After letting Izaya slip from his mouth Shizuo pulled him from the wall and slipped around his body to stand behind him, pull Izaya flush to his back as he raised his hand to pinch at his nipples through the tight fabric of his shirt.

“Did I do as well as Atsu? Was that _everything_ you wanted to remember tonight then?” Izaya had hummed in response to Shizuo’s first question, and then tensed at the second. Shizuo pulled on a nipple and slid his other hand upwards to grasp Izaya’s throat again. Izaya sighed and relaxed into the touch and his voice rumbled softly to hit Shizuo’s ears like a wish.

“If I say yes, you’ll leave, won’t you?”

 _“I’m sure you’ll find me again._ Maybe next time, I’ll spot you first. Remember last time?” Shizuo was referring to the way he had slipped away, and Izaya seemed to understand because nodded his head and closed his eyes. Shizuo used the grip around Izaya’s throat to tilt his head back until he could press a soft kiss there, and then he was stepping around Izaya and making a b-line for the door. He had counted in his head, and he had stepped outside just as Izaya should have opened his eyes. _Shizuo felt a bit like Cinderella right now._ Leaving before the stroke of midnight, but instead of leaving a glass slipper, he had left Izaya with bites in the shape of his mouth, much harder to track. Shizuo made his way home quickly, his eyes irritated from the contacts and his hair looking as though the color was fading already.

Shizuo made a promise not to go back. He wouldn’t do it again though he had told Izaya he’d see him again. _Shizuo didn’t feel comfortable lying like this._ If Izaya every found out it _was_ Shizuo he had fooled around with inside the club, Shizuo knew that there would be hell to pay. He’d have no chance of getting Izaya back. At this point he was sure that Izaya still wanted him, he wouldn’t have sought Shizuo’s persona out if he hadn’t. He was using a modified form of his endearment for Shizuo, allowing his own to be used, just to get the sensation of Shizuo back for a moment. Shizuo almost went back in the hopes that Izaya would still be there, wanted to spill the truth and just admit that Shizuo had gotten past the past. He hadn’t forgiven Izaya, but he had put it behind himself, knowing somehow that Izaya wouldn’t hurt him again. _Not like the last time._

Shizuo lay in bed that night worrying over whether or not Izaya already _knew_ it was him. He thought the idea ridiculous, he had been careful, but Shizuo also knew that he and Izaya had experienced enough of each other to know the feel of the other. Shizuo touched Izaya the way Izaya liked to be touch, because Shizuo knew _exactly_ how to touch Izaya. He shook his head and rolled over, choosing to run his fingers around the ring on his hand. _It was a promise._ Shizuo hadn’t realized it when he had started wearing it, but he understood it now. It was a promise, to keep himself for Izaya. He would find a way to make them work again, he’d give up his pride if he had to and he would _beg_ Izaya to come back. Shizuo _needed_ him. His sharp mouth and sharper wit, and how submissive he _chose_ to be in moments of intimacy. Shizuo wanted all of it back—and he would be damned if he thought about giving up.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so Shizuo is the hugest sap, we all know that. Izaya is also a bottom bitch. Both are common knowledge. Okay? Okay. So...I was really only going to make this three parts, and of course I'l let everything run away on me once again. So...this song will be the death of me, because there are too many good fucking song lyrics to Mr. Brightside. Like, honestly, I could probably use all of them to make a complete story line, but I'm going to try and restrict it a little bit. I'd like the series to be done before second semester starts. 
> 
> As always, leave a kudos, leave a comment, but I always prefer more detailed feedback. I take requests! 
> 
> Hit me here: sin.menaceinc@gmail.com


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